


Got me in the mood

by intrajanelle



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Additional Warnings In Author's Note, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-07
Updated: 2014-04-07
Packaged: 2018-01-18 13:16:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,166
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1429894
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/intrajanelle/pseuds/intrajanelle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jean and Marco are having separate bachelor parties on opposite sides of the city. So Jean's a little surprised when he returns to their apartment after a long night of "debauchery" to find a little something waiting up for him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Got me in the mood

**Author's Note:**

> First of all, I have no excuse. I haven't slept in like two days. This is what happens apparently. There's no plot, well there's a little plot, but its irrelevant its all sex. 
> 
> I stole the title from "Sleeping With A Friend" by Neon Trees because that /is/ Marco and Jean's song.
> 
> Additional warnings include: light bondage, anal sex, foreplay, orgasm denial and Jean and Marco being dorks.
> 
> I hope you guys enjoy~

When Jean gets home in the wee hours of the morning, he expects Marco to be asleep.

 

Light is just seeping through their blinds and Marco is usually in bed before eleven on a good day so Jean can’t imagine that he stayed up late, even for his bachelor party. Their bachelor party. Their very separate bachelor parties, on opposite sides of the city, to celebrate their last night of being single, wild bachelors even though they hadn’t been single or wild in over eight years.

 

Frankly, Jean had been pretty much done with the whole idea the second Eren had decided, in a burst of inspiration, that he and Marco should be separated the _entire_ night. He knows the general idea of a bachelor party is for one fiancé to not see the other, for it to be one last night of debauchery. But Jean is pretty sure there’s a clause in the bachelor party handbook _somewhere_ that says couples that are tying the knot after eight years of dating are entitled to skip the whole “wild night out” routine. Because, truthfully, Jean has been sick of parties for a very long time. Ever since he met Marco at that one frat party their first week of college the entire purpose of socializing to find a boyfriend had become moot, and all he really wants now is Marco.

 

And Marco is exactly what he gets, the moment he walks through the door to their bedroom. A naked, sweaty, turned-on Marco, tied to all four bedposts by thick leather straps on his long, freckled limbs.

 

“Um,” Jean says, intelligently.

 

“Jean, thank god,” Marco groans. “Untie me.”

 

“Um,” Jean says, his jacket falling to the floor. His shoes go next, landing among laundry and magazines scattered around their room. He’s shirtless and beltless by the time he climbs onto the bed and straddles his fiancé. And, with little flourish, he kisses Marco square on the mouth, pushes past Marco’s lips, and tastes the alcohol and bitter Martini salt that still lingers on his tongue.

 

“Whose idea was this?” Jean asks when he pulls away, breathless.

 

Marco groans some more, twists his arms in the straps, and if Jean wasn’t turned on before he sure as hell is now.

 

“Ymir’s. She bought these on Amazon, apparently.” He tugs at the straps like the fact that they were bought cheap, online, offends him. “They got me so drunk, really drunk, I’m _still_ kind of drunk,” Marco says, his head lolling on the singular pillow their friends had thoughtfully thought to provide. “Then they dragged me back here, took all my clothes and had me tied down before I even knew what was _happening_.”

 

He says all this like he expects Jean to be _affronted_ by this information. Jean just grins, leans in to kiss him again and says, “Remind me to thank Ymir,” while he reaches for the lube.

 

“Jean, are you serious?” Marco says, and his voice kind of cracks which Jean finds fucking adorable.

 

“So serious,” Jean says, brushing his lips up Marco’s neck, making him shiver. He settles between Marco’s legs and ran his fingers along his fiancés thighs. “I missed you.”

 

“I saw you yesterday,” Marco says.

 

Marco is flushed and even though Jean is just touching him he’s panting like they’re already fucking. Jean decides to take his time, runs soft trails along Marco’s arms and legs, licks wet, hot stripes up Marco’s shaft and swallows him whole, teasingly, before trailing openmouthed kisses along the insides of his thighs.

 

Marco moans and tugs at the straps but he’s pinned to the bed, pinned under Jean, wide open and exposed in Jean’s lax arms.

 

“ _Jean_ ,” Marco gasps. He meets Jean’s eyes and his eyebrows are furrowed like he’s concentrating all of his willpower into not coming just yet.

 

Jean thinks its friggin adorable and kisses Marco lazy and wet for a moment before wrapping one set of fingers around the base of Marco’s cock and working the others inside of him.

 

“Jean,” Marco gasps, toes curling, arching up against Jean’s hands. “Jean, stop teasing. Please.”

 

“Please what?” Jean asks, a silly grin warping his face.

 

Marco looks thoroughly debauched and _this_ , this is more rewarding than any night on the town drinking with strangers could ever be. This is all Jean wants from now on. Just Marco, flushed and hard and naked underneath him, _because_ of him.

 

“Please, want you inside me,” Marco says and then groans as Jean curls his fingers to brush Marco’s prostate. “ _Please_ , don’t make me ask again.”

 

“You got it, sweetheart,” Jean says, easily.

 

Marco whimpers, fucking whimpers, when Jean removes his fingers, almost makes Jean come right then and there. And then, too fucking long later, Jean is pushing into his fiancé, stretching him open with smooth, even thrusts until he’s balls deep and Marco and writhing beneath him.

 

“Are you trying to fuck me or kill me?” Marco demands, sweaty bangs flopping on his forehead.

 

Jean pushes them back and places a kiss right there between Marco’s eyes. And then he kisses him, smiles, and begins driving into Marco as hard as he can, without hurting them both. He braces himself against the headboard and Marco twists in the straps so that they hold him in place and then he just takes it.

 

And it’s a revelation, an epiphany, something fancy and magical, really, when Jean realizes that he’s going to get to spend the rest of his life with this boy. He’s going to get to make him breakfast and drink his shitty coffee and screw him over the counter every day until they’re old and wrinkled. They might have kids, they might just adopt a pack of dogs and they might be stuck babysitting their stupid friends for the rest of their lives but they’re going to do it together and its going to be awesome and Jean is _marrying_ Marco.

 

Moments later, when Marco comes between them with a low whine, without Jean having touched his cock at all, he clenches down on Jean, sending Jean tumbling right behind him into his orgasm. When he rouses enough to form a conscious thought beyond pure and undulating happiness, Jean is tucked against Marco’s side, one arm pulling their waists together.

 

“Jean?” Marco whispers and when Jean looks up at him his smile is wide and bright, blinding. Jean thinks he’s going to say “I love you” but he just says, “Now can you untie me?”

 

“No way,” Jean says, springing from their mattress after placing a sloppy kiss on the end of Marco’s nose. “Breakfast in bed!”

 

“Jean! I can’t eat with my hands tied,” Marco protests.

 

When Jean looks back at him from the door he’s pouting, and it takes all Jean’s willpower to not turn right the hell around for round two.

 

“I guess I’ll just have to feed you,” Jean says, with a wink.

 

And yeah, those straps don’t come off for awhile.


End file.
